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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28156281">Winter's on the Wind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProsperDemeter/pseuds/ProsperDemeter'>ProsperDemeter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>20 Days of Holiday Fics [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Spider-Man - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>I stop being anything happens but we all know what was about to happen, Implied Smut, M/M, Peter parker is a disaster, but Harry loves him anyway</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:42:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,640</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28156281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProsperDemeter/pseuds/ProsperDemeter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When a blizzard hits New York, Peter begs off for the night at Harry's home.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Osborn/Peter Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>20 Days of Holiday Fics [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035498</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Winter's on the Wind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>17 :)</p><p>Implied smut be here but honestly, the fic stops before it even begins so eh. Enjoy. It's a super short one folks, I'm sorry. Just couldn't keep much inspiration.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was cold outside but toasty inside as long as Harry stayed by the fire. The Osborn Manor was big, vast, and, mostly, empty. It was sad but, honestly, Harry would have been lying if he said he wasn’t both used to it and longed for it most days. He spent a good deal of time surrounded by people - be it at school, at Oscorp, or living in busy New York City. And while Harry didn’t particularly </span>
  <em>
    <span>dislike</span>
  </em>
  <span> it, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked</span>
  </em>
  <span> it about the same. He relished in the alone time, classic holiday movies playing on the big television, the fireplace roaring, and feet tucked under a big, fluffy blanket. He was warm, he was cozy, and he was starting to drift off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until a knock on the window startled him awake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or, at least, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was a knock. It had </span>
  <em>
    <span>sounded</span>
  </em>
  <span> like a knock. But it didn’t exactly make sense why someone would knock on the window - on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>third floor</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Harry had to himself - instead of the front door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> have a boyfriend that was fond of climbing up walls for no reason other than he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, Harry thought glancing down at his phone, Peter wouldn’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid enough</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go out in ten degree weather when there was a blizzard out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except that was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>exact</span>
  </em>
  <span> sort of stupid his boyfriend was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry sighed just as another knock, louder and more firm, banged on his window and bemoaned the reason why he had to have fallen in love with a dumbass spider-boy. He stumbled out of the blanket, steaming mug of cider still cradled between his hands and pulled up the blinds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And there he was. Smiling like the fool he was as his face, red with cold, got pelted with snow that colored his brown hair like powdered sugar. He waved pathetically and Harry rushed, without thought, to throw the window open. “Parker what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Peter’s teeth were chattering as he climbed in, all stiff limbs stuffed in multiple layers of clothing. He was wearing the spider suit, webs of black over blue and red, and then jeans, frozen from the temperature, and his puffer jacket. Which wouldn’t have really been a problem - aside from the possibility of someone seeing </span>
  <em>
    <span>Spider-Man</span>
  </em>
  <span> climb through his window - except Peter wasn’t the farthest thing from a normal person in most circumstances. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-do y-you hav-ve any idea-a how c-cold it is?” Peter smiled as though it were no big deal and Harry shoved the window closed with perhaps more force than was necessary for the situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold this.” He shoved the mug at Peter’s hands, thankful it was still steaming, and his nearly frozen boyfriend relaxed just a bit when his hands closed around the ceramic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-what is it?” He sniffed it curiously and Harry shouldn’t have been as captivated as he was at the way the cider made Peter’s brown eyes look more like caramel but, well, he was well aware of just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was for the other boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry fetched the blanket he had been curled under, threw it over his arm and grabbed Peter’s jacket zipper to yank down. Thankfully, Peter was very much used to Harry’s brand of manhandling and simply let him take off the jacket and throw it on the back of an armchair. He shivered as the blanket settled over his shoulders and tried to, discreetly, snuggle into the warm fabric. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t discrete at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In fact, Peter was busy shaking feeling back into his body and snow out of his hair. Harry typically kept his floor of the manor warm and it wasn’t exactly because Peter spent so much time there. In fact, the two of them combined tended to spend more time at the apartment Peter shared with May than the giant Osborn home. Harry wasn’t particularly fond of the house and Peter wasn’t particularly fond of Harry’s father so it was best for all that they spent as little time as possible there. “Apple cider.” Harry supplied, and stood a bit on his toes to brush the snow out of Peter’s hair with a gentle brush of his fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, Peter thought he could die happy just then, Harry Osborn in front of him - in </span>
  <em>
    <span>pajamas</span>
  </em>
  <span> and glasses and looking perfectly imperfect - and warmth slowly settling into his bones. Cautiously he took a sip and made a quiet, pleased sound. “Did you make this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry shrugged as though it were an answer. Peter didn’t ask for more information because he hadn’t quite lost enough feeling to miss Harry’s fingers making quick work of the button and zipper of his jeans. His eyes widened. “Mister Osborn, are you getting me out of my pants before even saying hello?” Not that Peter was complaining. He was perfectly more than okay with that turn of events. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blue eyes told him that he was, perhaps, very far from actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>getting </span>
  </em>
  <span>that. “They’re frozen and if I leave you in frozen clothing you’ll go into hibernation and probably die.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>die</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That was a bit more extreme than what would </span>
  <em>
    <span>possibly</span>
  </em>
  <span> happen. “I wouldn’t die.” Peter argued lamely, but had to admit that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> feel a bit better once they were off and he was just in the spider suit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to borrow some sweats?” Harry gnawed at his bottom lip once most of the cold clothing was off Peter’s body and Peter couldn’t say that he didn’t appreciate Harry’s worry but… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay.” Harry didn’t believe him in the slightest. “Okay,” Peter said with an eyeroll, but it was fond - or at least Harry </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was fond. “I’ll steal some.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry jerked his head towards the bedroom and Peter shuffled away looking rather pathetic, hair dripping wet, blanket like a cape, and Harry’s mug of cider rapidly losing it’s warmth between his hands. He watched him walk away and, only when he heard his drawers open, did Harry roll his eyes to the high heavens, check his phone to tell May where Peter was, and throw several more logs onto the fire so that it was brought back from the embers it had settled into before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An absolute idiot that was what Peter Parker was. </span>
  <em>
    <span>His</span>
  </em>
  <span> absolute idiot but </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> an idiot. He sat back on the leather couch, tipped his head over the back of it and rubbed at his eyes beneath his glasses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One quiet night. That was all he had asked for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hid the suit in your drawers.” Peter said from where he had stopped right before Harry’s feet and nudged at his legs until he looked up at him. He smiled that dorky, dopey smile of his and opened his arms wide under the blanket. “Hi Har, can I have a hug?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just want to steal my body heat.” Harry muttered but stood to oblige anyway. He was exactly two inches shorter than Peter, something the other boy took advantage of way too easily, and consistently ran warmer than him. He slipped his arms around Peter’s waist and settled himself into his chest. Peter made a happy little noise, not unlike a cat beginning to pur, and closed his own arms around the back of Harry’s neck. The blanket was a warm cocoon around them, Peter cold nose nuzzling into the warmth of Harry’s neck and his eyes sliding shut as he shook from the cold leaving his bones. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry for just dropping in.” Peter muttered sometime later, when Harry had started to seriously consider that he had fallen asleep standing up. “We lost power and May’s at work so…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost instantly Harry felt terrible for thinking that Peter had intruded on a day of relaxation. Of course they had lost power. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> lost power. And, to be fair, most of New York </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> lost electricity during the storm. He shrugged helplessly. “You should have called. I would have come to pick you up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of him being out in the cold. Freezing. Knocking on his window. Peter shrugged just as helplessly. “Shoulda, woulda, coulda.” He squeezed Harry’s neck and pulled back just enough that there was an inch or so of space between the two of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled at it was like sunshine breaking through the blizzard clouds. God, Harry was so very in love. Loving Peter Parker was both single handedly the best and worst part of Harry’s existence. He nuzzled their noses together until their breath mingled in the space between them. “It’s just me home,” Harry said, softly, the ghost of Peter’s lips on his own. “In case you were wondering.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s laugh was low in his belly and he had begun to back Harry up until his shins hit the back of the couch and then he stopped, not pushing him over but not stopping him if he dropped either. His hands were warmer, then, than they had been when he had come in, and they still weren’t quite kissing but not quite </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> kissing. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Are</span>
  </em>
  <span> you?” Peter’s fingers tickled at his neck until he shivered and his breath moved from Harry’s lips to the corner of his jaw and then down lower until it sat at his neck. “Now that </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> interesting.” His entire body shivered at Harry’s nails dragging across his skin lightly. “Care to warm me up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry laughed, he couldn’t help it, Peter was </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrible</span>
  </em>
  <span> at innuendo. “You’re horrible at this,” He told him once Peter pulled back enough to look at him. “Just thought you should know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cheeks were red, though, and Peter smirked like he knew he had won. He wiggled his eyebrows. “You love every second of it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t test your luck.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> testing it. It hasn’t failed me yet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, Peter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make me, Harry.” </span>
</p>
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